Lights, Camera, Action, or A Mix Thereof.

The furniture store where Gerard Way had worked for almost two years was a big box place that could afford television commercials. The ceiling was at least twenty feet above the floor and consisted of steel rafters that crisscrossed over and under each other. The store itself was massive, displaying everything from beds to cushy armchairs to entire living room sets that cost more than Gerard made in a month. Most of the customers were fairly well-off, brandishing their credit cards like weapons as they picked out that genuine leather sofa in black with the matching armchair and ottoman.

Basically, it was like most other furniture store chains and Gerard liked that. It meant that his days were routine and that nothing out of the ordinary happened. He went about, performing his mundane tasks and avoiding customers as much as possible. It wasn't a glorious existence by any means but it was a predictable one.

Until one day.

Around ten o'clock on a Tuesday morning, one of the massive glass front doors was pushed open and a young man strolled in, dressed in dark jeans and a bright red jacket. He had hoops threaded through his lip, nose and both ears and his hands were littered with tattoos. This was the first sign that something was wrong; people with tattoos did not come into the furniture store. They simply did not.

The second sign was that the young man, who went by the name of Frank, was holding his head high and singing.

"The world is bright, the sky is blue, I'm beautiful, can't say that for you!" One woman he walked by, who was shopping with her friend, whispered a comment and immediately, the man was in front of her.

"Harassment!" he screamed in her face before continuing on his way, still singing.

"I could go for sex, I could go for sex, I could go for sex! And maybe some furniture too!" He skipped merrily down each aisle, laughing as people dived out of his way. He was unstoppable... until he saw the chair.

"Oh. My God," he said, stopping in his tracks. "Look at that chair!" The chair in question was a bright red lounge chair and he immediately sat in it, squealing.

"Ooh, it has buttons!" He pushed a random button that was inset in the arm of the chair and small knobs underneath the fabric began to knead his back. Pushing another button, the chair also started to vibrate.

"That feels good," he groaned, tilting his head back and shutting his eyes.

"Hello, my name is Gerard, may I help you today?" Out of sheer boredom, Gerard had gone up to the nearest customer, hoping they'd said no. It was both the best and the worst decision he'd ever made.

"Oh, fuck me."

"What?"

"I'm talking to the chair!" Frank snapped, opening his eyes. They immediately widened at the sight of the man standing in front of him, tapping his foot. Although the required uniform did not flatter his body, he had a gorgeous face and lovely black hair that was sticking up in every direction. Frank's heart began to beat a little faster in his chest. Was this... love?

"But what I just said could also apply to you."

"Dude. You don't even know me," Gerard said, a little weirded out by the short man who was staring at him.

"Well, I know your name and I know what you look like. I've slept with people I knew less about," Frank said, groaning again as the chair continued to knead his back.

"How on Earth does that work?" Gerard asked, taking a cautionary step backwards.

"Let's just say that masquerade balls can get pretty kinky." He settled back into the chair and closed his eyes again.

"Now, if you are not going to fuck me, will you please leave? I'm having fun." He unleashed a string of moans that sounded exaggerated but from the look on his face, Gerard couldn't be entirely sure. Rolling his eyes, he walked off, leaving the moans in the background as he sought out someone who wasn't so fucking weird to help.